Page 102 of The Speed of Lightning
It was another truth, one she carried with pride. She knew they’d been watching her, tracking her steps. And Grufa—though at odds with Papa—was still a man he respected more than any MacLean. He was the perfect cover.
Papa’s lips thinned, his mouth blanching as he pressed them tight. “Grufa says you left his home just before dark. But what about after?”
“I went home, Papa. I saw Inga MacLean on the way—we walked right past this house. Gavina and Fraser can attest we passed them in Lealt later. We were home all night. Calum hadan early morning hunting the next day in Glenbatrick with the clansmen there and didnae return until after dark the following evening. But surely you know this already, you’ve been watching us.”
Papa said nothing. Relief broke over her in a rush, leaving her weak-limbed. Calum had thought of everything that night. They had kept to their ordinary routines, slipping west only after the cover of sunset.
Bog clawed at the back window, shutters snapping against their restraints.
Rory loomed over her, waving the parchment. “It doesnae mean you couldnae have written this.”
She shook her head fiercely. “It’s not my hand—you both know that. Compare it to our failed contract. I did not write it. Please…please let me go. We’ve given you no trouble these three months, Papa. We’ve respected your chieftainship. I beg you—Calum will be home from the hunt any minute. If he finds I’ve been held and questioned, I fear what he’ll do.”
Rory’s temper broke. He seized her arms and slammed her back against the wall. “You were supposed to be mine.Mine.And he’s stolen you. How dare you raise his name? How dare you break the contract we had?”
She shuddered but forced her spine straight. “He’s my husband, Rory. How can I no’ speak his name?”
Rory shook her until her teeth rattled. “He’s no’ your husband—not yet. Is he?”
Terror clamped her chest. Still, she met his eyes, her voice trembling but unyielding. “We said our vows before the church, with witnesses. Our union blessed by God. He is my husband, Rory. The king gave him a choice—and he chose me. He chose me.”
Rory wrenched her up, crushing her against his chest. “If you’d only waited a few more days, we were to be handfasted. Instead you ran to him.”
“I was scalded. I needed care.”
Papa’s voice rose like fire. “You provoked me that night! You snuck out. It was your fault this ever happened. How are we to believe the burns were severe? Only your word—and that cur’s son, MacLean.”
Rory’s hands fisted in her skirt. “Then let us see the proof. If they were so severe, there will be scars.”
Terror locked her chest. She shoved at him, her voice breaking. “There are! Stop—don’t touch me!”
The door thundered on its hinges. Bog’s roaring shook the walls.
Rory pulled at her skirt as she fought to hold it down. “Rory, dinnae—stop!”
Bog’s barking turned feral. Pain shot through her shoulder blades as she was smashed against the rough wall, her skirt tugged over her legs. His forearm pressed against her throat, choking the breath from her lungs.
With one hand she clutched her skirt, trying to keep herself private, but Papa stepped forward, holding her arms. In the next second her skirts were yanked over her waist. Eyes bulging, she could do nothing as they took in the pink and brown rippled scars. Rory’s face twisted—not with pity, but disgust.
Papa looked revolted. “There are scars.”
Struggling to move her head, she nodded. She wanted out. She needed Calum.Dear Jesus, save me…
With a jerk, Rory withdrew his arm. She sank to the floor, covering herself, shame flooding her. Auld feelings of humiliation she hadn’t felt in months crashed over her.
Towering above her, Rory sneered. “I’m still willing to have you. The rest of you is desirable enough. If your marriage hasnaebeen consummated, it can be annulled. We already have the dispensation.”
Her throat burned, but she dared not argue—terrified they would try to verify her purity next. She staggered up, aiming for the door, but Papa blocked her path.
“Have I not put up with enough of your insolence? Enough of the curse you’ve been to me? After all you’ve put me through this past year, you’ll make it right. Rory still wants you, and he’ll pay double your bride price. Leave MacLean. Say the word, and it’s all undone.”
Something flared inside her—a spark of God-given truth. She straightened, voice low but steady.
“I’ve never been a curse.”
Rory burst into hysterical laughter, shaking his head as if she were a fool. “Do you really think I entered into a marriage contract with your father unaware of the kind of wife I was getting? Aside from looks and lineage—you’re nothing, Freya.”
Tears clogged her throat. She shook her head, edging around the furniture toward the door.
